


Crawling Shadows

by IridescentThoughts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clint & Nat are good friends to Reader, Gen, Reader and Steve are bffs before Reader meets the Buckster, They probably braided each other hair and painted their nails when they went on missions, nah jk but they were really close friends, this is kinda au but you can take it as reader has weird powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5708683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IridescentThoughts/pseuds/IridescentThoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You never once thought the shadows would find a home; especially not in Steve Rogers' best friend. </p><p>---</p><p>Reader has the ability to see the "shadows" of people. Some people have shadows, some don't. Reader's is mocked by her own; others live in the bliss of not knowing they exist. Bucky has the largest shadow of them all. </p><p>Shadows are basically representing the person and how much "evil" they can be accounted for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. These Shadows.

**Author's Note:**

> Ive also posted this on my quotev so don't worry if you've seen it there.

The shadows are dark and vicious, they swallow the room and suffocate all in their path. Close those whose eyes can see them; steal the light right from them. At the age of three all the light is gone, your world submerged. Your parents worry as you spend your nights yelling about the monsters in the shadows that grow like ivy along the walls. 

At the age of nine your mind is brilliant, your body is weak. The bed is covered in stuffed animals to ward off the shadows, the lights are left on, and the door always cracked. The shadows now have voices. They screech in your ears and drown your eardrum. You spend all of your days staring out the window with a book in your lap. 

12 is when you meet the boy with flashing blue eyes and the will to take on anyone. His body is sick like yours; a doctor's office is where you meet. The shadows hate him, they hiss and repel off him whispering words of innocence. He draws you while you read. 

A year later is when the shadows find a home. His eyes are palest shade of blue you’ve ever seen, yet the shadows absorb right to them. They mock him and swirl around him; a rapid assault of words escaping from them. He just smiles and grabs your hand, dragging you along with him. “Did you know that Stevie stuffs his shoes with newspapers?” 

“No.”

\-----

At the age of your grandmother you should be dead, the shadows should’ve come and collected their prize some long time ago. They should’ve stopped their reign of terror. So why the hell are you staring at the very man who has the largest shadows out of everyone?  
His pale blue eyes flit over to you and the blond man beside you. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Metal grips your wrist stopping your feet in their place. The shadows heckling as they swirl around, their voices once again drowning your eardrums. His grip tightens as if he’s afraid this ghost from his past is going to slip through his metallic fingers. His breath wavers as the heckling still vibrates as background noise. “Does Stevie still stuff his shoes with newspapers?”

“No.”


	2. Chamomile & Peppermint.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadows really hate Chamomile and Peppermint Tea.
> 
> Also; this is definitely going in the route of Reader has weird powers.

The screaming kettle is the only background noise as two eyes stare at each other, soaking in the rugged appearance of the male and the semi-rugged appearance of yourself. His grey-blue eyes flited over to your owns, all his emotions running through them all while they seemed empty all at the same time.

Placing your hands on the table you pushed yourself up, wandering over to the stove, picking up the kettle. Grabbing two mugs from the overhead cabinet along with two teabags. Placing the bags in the mugs and pouring the steaming water over the bags and letting them steep. Setting the kettle back down you stared down at the dark liquid. Sighing before picking up the still steaming mugs and walking back to the table and setting them down. “I wasn’t sure what you would like to drink so I just made some tea.” You pulled the chair out and sat back down.

A small grunt passed his lips, his metallic fingers brushing against the ceramic. His long hair brushing past his shoulders, covering his face as her peers down into the steaming liquid. Chuckling you slide over a sheet of paper you keep on the table and pick out the bag placing it on top of it. Sliding it across the table you peer at him curiously. “You can take the bag out now.” Another grunt before his tea bag joined your own on the paper. “It's chamomile and peppermint, should help you sleep and stuff. Another grunt.

Sighing you ran your fingers through your already tousled hair. No speaking, alright, you could do this anyway. You watched as his metallic fingers finally fully gripped the mug, bringing the ceramic to his mouth as he gently blew on the steam as it flew off the tea. Smiling you leaned back in you chair, contemplating how you had began housing the other male.

\-----

_“He’s going to kill me if I let you just go.” The waves rush up on the bank and touch the bottom of Steve’s unconscious body._

_Choked words escape from his mouth. “I don’t know you.”_

_“Just trust me. Us. Please.” Your hand grabs his wrist, you’re not quite sure which because you slip the cellphone into it too quickly. “My numbers the only one in there, if you ever need help just call. I don’t care if you don’t trust me Barnes. Rogers’ll fucking kill me if I let you slip away.”_

_You can see his eyes slip down and gaze at the phone, gripping the lifeline before turning around._

_“I’ll give you a minute start before I call in that I found Steve. Now run, and don’t stop.” Your back is already turned and kneeling besides the body of Steve, pressing a soft hand under his neck; counting the seconds with his heartbeats._

_\-----_

_The dull ringing echoed around the small apartment— the silence you so treasured interrupted. Groaning and rolling off the couch you leaned forward grabbing the burn phone you now kept with you at all times of the day. Biting your lip you flipped the phone up and held it to your ear hearing the radio silence of the other end._

_“Barnes?” The words tumble from your lips quickly._

_“They found me.” Uneven breaths, panting. “After me. Not safe.” A loud clatter sounds off in the background. “Hurry.”_

_Your posture immediately straightens as your hurry to the bedroom to get ready. “Where the hell are you?”_

_“Germany.” The line shorts out._

\-----

Gripping the mug tightly you bring it to your lips and take a large gulp. Your hands slightly quivering. A sudden movement to your left causes you to slam the mug down on the table shattering it and slamming the shakers off the table. A chair pushing back in alarm causes you so growl and grip the table as tea runs off of it.

“Sorry— shit, sit back down.” Looking at the male you smile weakly and quickly notice the black shapes darting around behind him. Sighing you stand and go for the roll of paper towels, grabbing the shakers from their fall. Sopping up the lukewarm liquid as you grabbed the shards with the towels as well.

“Are you…” He pauses. “Okay?”

Smiling weakly you dump the trash in the can and place the paper towels on the counter; gripping it as you do. “Yeah, just got spooked.” A dark tendril creeps down your hands, causing them to shake more.

“You don’t seem to be.” The chair scrapes the floor again.

You snort and turn to face him, trying to ignore the shadows swallowing him. “Says the amnesiac.”

You can tell you’ve hit a chord when his face darkens and the shadows seem to go into hyperdrive. Swirling quickly around him while laughing. He stalks towards you; his arms swinging and his metal hand slamming onto the counter inches from yours. Your eyes briefly meet before your own flutter away; his own still staring you down.

“Sorry.” Your hand inches it’s way to cover his metallic one. “Listen Barnes-.”

His grip is suddenly around your wrist and your body is pressed against the counter. “No, you listen. You said I could trust you, trust them. But all I have are scraps of memories that aren’t fuckung lining up.” His grip tightens. “I’m trusting you because my memories are telling me too. But until you tell me what the fuck that little episode just was-.”

You yank your wrist back. “I see them.” You look over his shoulder. “The things in your closet, under the bed. The monsters. I see them and hear them and they are around almost everyone.” Your hand presses into his chest. “And you have the biggest monsters of all Barnes.”

His eyes narrow and recognition flash within them. “Umbra, you’re Umbra.”

You shove him back. “Correction, I was Umbra, but I got out. I don’t do that shit anymore.”

More confusion settled on his face. “But Umbra, they…”

“Was your partner? I know. Why the hell do you think I offered you help.”

“You just looked as confused as the man though.”

“They wiped some of my memories of our missions, some of my childhood. I wasn’t whole. I never have been. The shadows manipulate me and so did HYDRA.” Your hand grips his multiple layers. “I knew you as the Asset. Not as Bucky. Steve forgot to mention that we had a long lost friend that fell off a fucking train in WWII.”

His metal hand reaches up to touch yours, retracting it from his shirt. “You’re not alone. I don’t have all my memories either; probably never will.”

“Thats where we’re different Barnes.” Your eyes meet his. “I gotten my memories back, that's why I fucking ran after Triskelion. I knew that they would find out I wasn’t a brainwashed prisoner. I was their fucking weapon.”

The lone mug of chamomile and peppermint sits on the dining table— stale and cold. Small tendrils of black sneak up the legs of the tables and cover the mug. Suddenly shattering of the mug is heard as the smoke laughs and disperses away again; tea dripping off the table for the second time that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you guys think of this chapter? It really took a different direction than I expected especially at the end. [whoops.]


	3. You Really Did Like Your Apartment.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're background as Umbra is slightly revealed, Sam and Steve make and appearance, you're now an official fugitive.
> 
> Oh and you jump through a window and do some cool shadow things.

The heavy box weighed down your arms as you used it to turn on the switch while closing the door with your foot. Walking down the dimly lit hallway black shadows cackled and jumped from wall to wall; sliding across the floor. Emerging into the living room you dumped the box onto the coffee table in front of Barnes before taking the seat next to him.

“This is all I could get before I was rescued back in ‘10.” You pluck the lid off the box and set it on the table; watching as black shapes tug it onto the ground. “It’s information on HYDRA, us, and whatever else I thought was important. I lost some when working with the Avengers, but I made sure to hide the most important files.”

His hands tug the box closer to him. “How did you even get out?”

Smiling gently you lean back in the sofa. “Barton and Romanoff, former spy's. Like us.”

His head jerks and turns towards you. “No way.”

Laughing gently and nodding you pat his back. “Oh yeah, totally. Barton is like a god with the bow and arrow and Romanoff could probably snap your neck with her thighs.”

He smiles faintly before turning back to the files, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. “Remind me to never get in a fight with them.”

You shrug and kick your feet up on the coffee table, scattering shadows. “Eh, If we keep living like we are it’s bound to happen eventually.”

His jaw sets, you can tell. “Yeah.”

This conversation is over. His hands gently go through the files, avoiding yours, if this was any other situation you’d be glad but this is your; brainwashed childhood friend who was also your partner when you worked for HYDRA. Geez, talk about a fucking mouthful. Leaning forward you grip his hand, stopping it from scanning the files. Grabbing a file from the memorized order in your head you bring it out. UMBRA is placed at the top of the file and you can tell he tenses when he notices.

“This is your-.” He begins.

“No Barnes, this is ours.” You hand him the folder. “If you're going to live with me and believe the crazy batshit I told you then you deserve to know.”

He nods gently before opening it, eyes scanning down the page. He begins to read aloud, “[Name] [Last Name], [Middle Name]. Born in 1919, 1946: Captured due to involvement with Asset. Was promised to be able to see him again.” His eyes flutter over to yours before going back to reading. “1946: Unexpectedly showed signs of being able to contact another dimension, now being kept as an experiment. 1947: Says that “shadows” are what are tormenting the subject.” His hands grip the file tighter. “1947: Subject managed to manifest “shadows”, blew up an entire science division. Put through electrotherapy and put on cryofreeze. 1968: Subject completely under control, running missions with Asset; under name Umbra. 1969: Mission successful; electrotherapy and cryofreeze. 1971: Mission successful; electrotherapy and cryofreeze. 1975: Mission successful; electrotherapy and cryofreeze. 1979: Mission successful; electrotherapy and cryofreeze. 1983: Mission successful; electrotherapy and cryofreeze. 1985: Mission successful; electrotherapy and cryofreeze. 1990: Mission successful; electrotherapy and cryofreeze. 1999: Mission successful; electrotherapy and cryofreeze. 2003: Mission successful; electrotherapy and cryofreeze. 2005: Mission successful; electrotherapy and cryofreeze. 2008: Mission successful; however showed signs of resistance during electrotherapy and cryofreeze.” His mouth closes and stares down at the file. “That's all.”

You nod and close your eyes. “Two years later is when Barton and Romanoff showed up.” You clench your fists. “But when I got out I asked why and they never responded. I still don’t know why the fuck S.H.I.E.L.D would save me.”

“I think we could really use some tea.” He drops the file on the table.

\-----

This time you actually got to drink some of the tea before things went to total shit. And by total shit you mean Star Spangled Man with a Plan literally fucking kicking down your door; and Man with Pretty Jetpack kicking in your window. Maybe staying in your apartment in the country that Barnes was busted in wasn’t the best idea. However you seriously doubt Rogers would be getting help from the police of all people.

Of course the first thing your shitty “powers” got ahold two were the mugs of tea, causing them to explode and throw shards across the room, some lodging in the walls. Barnes was immediately on his feet; to fight or run you weren’t sure.

“Okay I know I like ran the hell away after Triskelion and you guys probably found out that I was a Hydra operative for like half of my unnaturally long life but seriously. My window and door? I thought you two at least had manners.” Check off mouthing off to superheroes on your ways to die early list.

Both of the males look equally confused however Steve spoke up first. “We’re here to help you two, they found out where you both are again.” He pauses. “We can talk about you being HYDRA later. Hopefully.”

“A simple fucking knock on the door would’ve been sufficient Steve!” Angrily shoving folders back into the box you turn to Barnes. “Get anything you might want to take with us. Also, the flash drive in my top nightstand drawer, please. ”

You can see the conflicted emotions on his face, his eyes flitting over to Steve, trying to recognize something— anything. Something for him to trust; to put faith in. Grabbing his arm you nod gently and keep your hold on his arm for a while longer before he darts off through the apartment.

“How long have you known I’ve had him here?” You ask grabbing a nearby lighter and turning it on.

Sam answers this time. “About a month, we were going to assist him the first time when we noticed rapid movement within the German police force, but when we got to the scene he was gone.”

You drop the lighter on the box and watch as it slowly eat away at it. “How’d you know it was me.”

“Because,” Steve looks you in the eyes. “No one cares for Buck more than me, except for you.”

\---

The sudden crunch and shatter of glass was probably the only pleasant thing about the correct experience. Clinging to Barnes as he clinged to you, two backpacks on each of your back. Full of the only things you could take with you from your now nice and toasty apartment. Armed police aiming their guns at you both as you free fell through the air, from some ridiculous as hell height.

Opening your eyes and looking around you had a very short window of time to try and make this work. Something you’ve never done before and frankly you’re surprised Barnes willingly when flying out a window with you like it was an everyday occurrence. Spotting random shadows on people everywhere you closed your eyes in concentration trying to focus their shadows away from them and towards yourself. Thrusting out an arm towards the roof of the building across from you the shadows collectively gathered, creating a downwards slope straight onto it.

Landing on top of the building and rolling a short distance you both untangled your limbs; the shadows grumbling in displeasure and crumbling; going back to their owners. Standing up you both ran for the door on the roof, quickly flying down countless flights of steps before making it to the Main Street. Once again hightailing it out of broad daylight.

“Do you know where to find those two again?” His voice is shouted over the bustle of people.

You feet pound against the sidewalk. “Yeah, they told me the coordinates before we got separated.”

He looks towards you. “How is that supposed to help us?”

“I’m not an ex-brainwashed assassin and former avenger for nothing, Barnes.”


	4. 1975

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mission memory is shared, shit hits the fan (again).
> 
> aka I have like a playlist full of sad songs to listen to and also please don't kill me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The USB was invented in 1999  
> Floppy Disk was the 1960's  
> Walkie Talkies were during WWII
> 
> So thats why reader was using a floppy disk and Barnes and them we're communicating via walkie talkies in 1975.
> 
> Plus what super cool assassin wouldn't want to use them?

_“One behind, three to the left.” You mutter over the handheld receiver._

_A hum in appreciation comes back over the static receiver. Staying hidden in your position on the railing you watched below. A metal arm attached to a dark haired male dressed in all black quickly zipped around the room; knocking out all of the targets you previously warned him off. Grinning and standing up, grabbing your bag you grabbed the railing before hopping over it. Falling the ten or so feet to the ground below you landed in a tumble roll and quickly stood up. Walking over to the male you stopped beside him._

_“So what did they even send us in for?” Your eyes flicker around watching as the shadows quickly consume the males victims._

_“Recon, kill anyone in the way.” His response is short, simple, and to the point._

_Nodding you follow after him down the dark hallways. Reaching a room full of computers you split off with your companion. Pulling a floppy disk from your bag after dropping it onto a counter you slid it into the computer. Booting up the computer your fingers quickly slid across the keyboard, gathering as much info as you could onto the disk._

_“More targets approaching, be on the watch out.” Your companion yells before running off down the hallway. Distantly you heard the sounds of gunfire and could only hope it was coming from his gun._

_Quickly ejecting the disk and jamming it into the backpack; you sling it onto your back. Grabbing the gun from the holster on your side you quickly shoot out the computer drive and the other three drives in the room. Rushing towards the exit a bullet grazing your hair stopped you quickly. Gritting your teeth you dropped to the ground and slid into the hallway, grappling with another gun you quickly pulled it out. Aiming both guns at either side of you and firing them you grinned as both bullets hit a target. Sliding straight into another hallway you quickly stood up._

_Turning back around you watched as two armed guards chased after you. Stopping and aiming both guns you shot off multiple rounds; grinning in victory as one goon slumped to the ground. Turning back around and running you turned a corner quickly and stopped leaning around the corner and aiming both guns. Firing them you froze as they both jammed; empty of bullets. Growling and throwing them to the ground you looked back at the guard. Noticing the shadows around him for the first time you grinned. Reaching out a hand you slowly closed a fist and watched as the shadows quickly closed around his neck— strangling him._

_“Impressive.” A voice comes from behind you causing you to jump on surprise and fling your arm out to hit them._

_Stood behind you was your companion; now holding your wrist with his metal hand to stop it. Sighing in relief you pulled your arm towards you— making him release it. Eyes meeting quietly signaled it was time to leave._

\-----

“We should get to the building in about five minutes.” You look down at the phone screen before looking over at Barnes.

He nods and keeps jogging at a steady pace beside you. Placing the phone in your pocket you pick up your pace slightly. Noticing a distant building you once again picked up your pace; Barnes easily matching your pace. Stopping outside of the main entrance of the door you slid your bag down your shoulder slightly and unzipped it pulling out a gun then readjusting the bag.

Barnes’ eyes widen. “I thought you said we could trust them?”

“We can.” You pause and take the gun out of safety. “I’m just making sure there’s no one else.” You kick the door open and walk in.

\---

There ended up being no threat, just Rogers and Wilson ready to intercept you two. They escorted you to another room deep inside of the building while talking about how they had even tracked Barnes to Germany in the first place. Zoning out halfway through the conversation you aimlessly followed along behind them.

Noticing something skitter in the corner of an upcoming room you quickly ducked into it as the group passed it. Looking around in each corner you found nothing— so it must’ve been your “wild” imagination. Turning to exit the room a sudden wave of nausea swept over you. Tripping forward you lunged for the wall for support— only to slide down it. Feeling a searing pain run across you chest (building on top of the nausea) caused you to lean forward and squeeze your eyes shut. Soft murmurs slowly reached your ears and caused you to open your eyes and look down. Shadows quickly scaled your legs and made their way up your hips. Screaming out in pain you tossed your head back to be met with another shadow; one that had a face.

Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the shortest chapter yet barely missing the 1,000 words mark. I try to make all my chapters 1,000 words but I struggled with this one for content other than the main events I had planned. More than half of the chapter is the flashback so, meh. I tried, I'm sorry for the short chapter!


	5. Faith.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The attack takes you to a better place; you place what shred of faith you have in Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is slowly become somber and angsty, whoops.
> 
> I try to keep my readers as gender neutral as possible but certain times like the flash back in this chapter totally shatters that.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

Everything was distant and muffled. Nausea, pain, and confusion all swirling like a storm inside of you. Hazy eyes watched as the shadows still crept up your legs. Letting out a weak whimper your mind crashed through torrents of emotion. Whispers taking the form of Barnes’ voice crawled through your ears layering on top of everything else. A raw scream rips from your throat, reverberating through concrete room. “Stop! Please stop!”

Pounding feet rush down the hallway. Turning quickly into the room Steve fell to his knees, grabbing your body. “What the hell is going on?” Convulsions spread over your body. Screams still being ripped raw from your throat.

“The shadows,” Barnes murmurs. “Their attacking. I don’t know how to stop it. [Name] is the only one who can see them and control them.”

“We just need to calm [Name] down then.” Sam leans down onto his knees as well. “Something had to trigger this to make the shadows attack.”

“I,” Barnes pauses again, “We can only try.”

More loud wails ran wild throughout the room. Steve gently grabbed your shoulders and held you still. “[Name] you need to calm down nothing is going to happen.”

A sudden mantra of ‘I’m sorrys’ fell from your lips. “James. We have to go back for James.”

Steve looked over his shoulder back at Barnes before turning back to focus on your body. “James is okay, he’s right here.”

Another wail fell from your lips. “It’s all my fault. I’m sorry.”

\-----

_“You ready to go yet?” James’ smooth voice floats through the room. “Stevie’s ‘bout ready to leave without us.”_

_Your eyes roll so far they about fall out of your head. “Stevie won’t leave me. I’m his date.” Your fingers roll over the tube of lipstick before gripping it._

_James scoffs and leans against the doorway. “I can’t believe he’s givin’ up on me settin’ him up with gals.”_

_“Maybe if the dames weren’t so busy moochin’ on you he wouldn’t of givin’ up on ‘ya.” Your lips pucker as you roll the rouge color across your lips._

_“Now it’s not my fault that I’m so attractive to the ladies.” A smirk crosses his lips._

_Rolling your eyes again you cap the lipstick and lay it on your vanity. Reaching down you grab your heels and slip them onto your feet. Standing up you grab your coat from the post of your bed and put it on. Walking towards James you flash a smile and pass him leaving your bedroom. Walking into the living room you see Steve waiting by the door. Approaching his your heels clack on the ground and you hear the muffled steps of James behind you._

_“Woah.. You look..” Steve stares in awe as you approach him. “Amazing…”_

_You smile and twirl around. “Well I have to dress to impress my date don’t I?”_

_Steve smiles and nods. “Although you’re not really my date.”_

_“Don’t say that!” You scoff and cover your chest. “I am too your date.”_

_Steve grumbles and toes the floor with his shoe. “Only because Buck wanted to go on a double date.”_

_You roll your eyes and step forward, kissing his cheek. “Hush Stevie.” You smile and hug him._

_Bucky grins and wraps his arms around both of of you. “Lets get going.”_

\-----

The noises in the background are muffled again while all of your sense are still hyper-aware. Your mind is still covered in a dense fog; barricading any rational thought process. Voices float all around, but this time they're not the mocking voices of the shadows. Slowly opening your eyes you’re thrusted back into reality. The voices you realize are Sam and Steve with occasional input from Barnes. What the conversation actually is you can’t piece together; too busy just trying to get your body to properly function. Letting loose a shaky exhale of the breathe you didn't know you were holding you sit up. Your eyes scatter around the room noticing you were in the same as before.

“We didn’t move you,” Sam is the first to notice you. “We were worried it might trigger something else.”

Nodding your fingers drag themselves across the concrete. “W-What…”

Steve kneels beside you, “You disappeared while we were walking. We found you in here screaming and freaking out.”

“You apologized and passed out.” Barnes is leaning against a far away wall.

Nodding while slowly soaking in the info you lean your head back against the wall. Was the reason you apologized was because the shadows took the form of Barnes? Because his shadows came to attack you; whispering everything you had ever done wrong to him? Your eyes glance over at Barnes— his shadows circled around him like a tornado. They seemed agitated and lunged towards you every now and then.

Everything about this attack seemed provoked. Had you accidentally triggered a memory for Barnes that he was better off forgetting; one that caused this much turmoil? You knew you wished you could forget all the things you had to do; the things you both had to do. Your hands were soaked in a bath of blood for God knows how long and you got to remember it all. Maybe one particularly nasty memory resurfaced for Barnes. Barnes approaches you and passes you the flash drive from earlier before silently leaving the room. What had really happened— that you would never know.

\-----

Your fingers grip tightly to the flash drive. Your palm felt like it was burning; the drive scalding a hole right through it. Closing your eyes and gripping the device tighter you lean back in your chair. Your head rests against the concrete of the wall while your fingers begin to fiddle with the drive. Sighing heavily you close your eyes. Everything that was on this drive could destroy everything you had tried to become. It put all the pieces of your past back together— even Barnes’ past. How both of your pasts ran alongside each other in unison.

Leaning forward your eyes peered over the small drive. Sighing once again you push yourself up and out of the chair. Taking the slow steps towards the table in front of you everything flies through your head. Placing your hands on the table you grip the drive once more before sliding it across the table. Steve’s expectant hands reach for the drive and grab it.

“You don’t…” He pauses and furrows his brows. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t feel comfortable.”

You cross your arms across your chest and shake your head. “No, it’s… I want to do this.” You smile weakly. “To earn back the trust I probably lost after I ran, and withheld information on Barnes from you.”

Your feet turn and carry you out the doorway. Your faith— what little of it your had left— was put all on one place, one person. Steve Rogers was the only person you could trust your faith in the hands on; at least while he looked over that file. Looking up your gaze falls on the shadows; their tendrils crawling up the walls. Sighing your feet continue to carry you down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave your thoughts in the comments!


	6. Clint Barton.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Cap is compromised in their hideout so they call in backup.
> 
> Clint and Reader have a talk about Reader and why they ran after the events of CA:TWS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sixth chapter is finally out!
> 
> I wanted the main focus of this chapter to be on Clint & Reader. It took a lot of building up to get there but it got there at the end. 
> 
> Clint, Nat, & Reader have close bonds due to each of their respective backgrounds with and without each other. Clint & Nat basically became Reader's parental figures or anchors while Reader was in the Avengers and dealing with their memory relapses.

Feet pounding down the hallway breaks you out of your slumber. Your body aches and groans as you push yourself off the ground and away from the pile of blankets. Standing up you duck your head into the hallway, but quickly retract it when you see Steve’s hurried form rushing down the hallway. His feet stop in front of the doorway and you can see the many emotions run across his face.

“We need to get going again.” His breaths come fast and panicked. “We’ve been compromised.”

Your eyes widen slightly and nod. “How are we going to get out?”

“I called in a favor from a friend.” He turns and runs to alert the others. “Meet in the main room in five minutes!”

Your body quickly turns to grab the backpack slung into a corner— your laptop being shoved into the bag and roughly being zipped shut. Standing back up your quickly sprint out of the room and down the hallway. Your feet working faster than your brain. Turning into the main room you see Steve is back in it; gathering his own things off a table you all had managed to salvage in the gigantic warehouse. He nods at you before you rush to help him pack up his own bag.

“Who did you call?” You're shoving his stuff into the bag wildly.

“Someone you know very well.” He smiles.

Quick footsteps enter the room stopping anymore questions you had. You turn and see Barnes and Sam ready to leave. Something glints off Sam’s back and you raise an eyebrow realizing it's his jetpack. His goggles are pushed up on his head for the time being. Barnes is dressed in the street clothes you all had to leave your apartment in, his backpack slung over his shoulders. He stands there fixing it before taking his attention away from it.

Nodding at the two you look back at Steve. “Ready to go?”

He nods and slings his backpack on. “Ready as I can ever be.”

\-----

The large quinjet begins it's descent in front of you, the sweeping winds almost knocking you off balance. Covering your face with your hand you squinted trying to keep your eyes focused on the jet. Stepping back slightly as the jet landed you finally uncovered your face. You watched as the end opened and someone exited; unfortunately Steve was right— you did know this person. A person you would be better off never seeing again. Someone from your past that had filled you with regret when you ran.

“Clint.” Steve walks forward first and greet the pilot.

Clint nods at his before motioning to the jet. “We should probably get going. Laura will kill me if I’m not back for dinner.”

Steve nods and walks forward; Sam follows after leaving you and Barnes. Sighing your ball your fists and walk up ramp in front of you. Grumbling all the way you freeze suddenly as a hand touches your shoulder. Looking over you see the man you had shoved into your past. He nodded towards you before patting your shoulder and walking off. Moving your hands to clutch the straps of your backpack your continued up the ramp— your past crawling back all too soon.

\-----

His hand places the glass in front of you. The water sloshes around slightly before settling— just like your thoughts. Nodding in thanks you quickly cup the glass with your hands, fingers tapping the glass gently out of agitation. His own chair is pulled out before he sits, scooting his own chair into place. One of his calloused hands reaches out and grabs his own glass he had just set down. You stare into the clear depths of the glass while he drinks from his.

“It’s nice here.” Your grip on the glass becomes tighter. “The barn is the perfect place to hide the jet.”

You can only assume he nods. “Fury helped set it up, made sure it wasn’t in any of the records.”

“‘S nice.” Your mind is rolling over and over. “You’re family is nice, friendly. It’s nice that one of the Avengers didn’t get screwed over in the family department.”

“You’re an Avenger too you know.” He places his glass back on the table. “Don’t talk about them like you're not one.”

“I'm not an Avenger anymore, not after I ran.” You bring the glass to your lips.

“Why,” He pauses and looks at you. “Why did you run?

Your throat clenches tightly before you pour the cool liquid down your throat. Your eyes close before setting the glass back down. Sighing deeply you open your eyes and lean forward on the table. Your eyes look up to lock with his blue-green ones. You could remember the days where short glances could be entire conversations between you two. Now you weren’t so sure that could be feasible anymore.

“I got scared.” Your voice trembles slightly. “After all the Winter Soldier shit went down I wanted to run. The past that had slowly been catching up did. I was afraid of how everyone would react, how they would treat me. I know everything worked out for Natasha but it’s different. She was raised doing that, that was the point of her existence until you showed up.”

He reaches across the table and takes the glass before your tight grip shatters it. “Isn’t that the same for you? After you were taken in by HYDRA and brainwashed? Weren’t you a new person? One who didn’t know what they were doing. One whose only purpose was to follow commands?” He pauses and reaches back across the table to grab your hand. “Even with your memories back, you became your own person. Nat and I didn’t rescue you just for you to run off. We rescued you because we saw potential. We saw someone who needed the push forward that all of us need.”

He squeezes your hand before standing up and pushing your glass back across the table. Pushing his chair in he exits the screen door to go out to the porch. Staring back down at your water you grip the glass as if it's a lifeline. The water sways back and forth, far from settling. You look back up and stare out the screen door, yeah it was nice here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave your thoughts & anything else in the comments!


	7. Baby Nathaniel.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura invites Reader to cook dinner, Reader meets baby Nathaniel and shares a thought from the past.
> 
> Clint and Reader talk about the imposing war.
> 
> EDIT: 2/13/16
> 
> I just know noticed that in the first paragraph I had put "[...]two years[...]" instead of four. I have not fixed it, otherwise the timeline would've made no sense.
> 
> 2010: Clint & Nat come rescue Reader  
> Rest of 2010-2011: Random missions  
> 2012: Avengers   
> Rest of 2012-2013: Random Missions  
> 2014: Winter Soldier, Reader goes AWOL/MIA about a week after the end of the battles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And drumroll because this took a long time. It seems like a filler chapter but I never write chapters intending for them to be, mostly what people consider filler actually gives you a wealth of knowledge behind characters and their relationships. Anyway, interpret that anyway you want. 
> 
> Things slightly pick up (?) become more dramatic with Clint and Reader speaking at the end about their own loyalties and others plus their thoughts. 
> 
> Also Amber Run's — I Found. fits this story beautifully, especially between Buckster and Reader. Oh and anything by Sleeping At Last is amazing, especially in the album Atlas: Year One.

That afternoon was simple. Sam and Steve had changed into their extra civilian clothes; Clint's wife, Laura, had washed Barnes' while he was in the shower. You had come from your own shower to see a pair of clothes that were your exact size, something that mildly shocker you but also didn't. Clint must know what size clothes you wore, especially after you both had spent four years working side by side with Natasha.

Your feet pattered down the steps and into the kitchen. The clothes seemed stiff and unworn but not as stiff as never having been worn. It was enough to distract your mind from everything else, focusing on clothes. The shouts and clashes of children running by your path shakes your thought train. Smiling slightly you back away letting them pass, watching the two run around shooting _NERF_ arrows throughout the house. Continuing on your path to the kitchen you reach the fridge, hand tightly gripping the handle.

"-Help?" The words phase through your ears except for the word ‘ _help_ '.

"Hmm?" Your body turns, keeping your hand on the handle.

Laura stands behind you smiling. "Do you want to help me with dinner?" She walks forward and grabs a pot from a cabinet. "It's spaghetti night."

You bite your lip. "I… I don't know."

She walks to the sink and starts running the water. "It helps." The pot starts filling up. "With the stress and anxiety I mean. Feeling like you can't do anything else." She shuts off the tap and places the pot on the stove top. "Takes your mind off other things, at least for a short while."

Your fingers slowly detach themselves from the fridge handle. "I'd like that."

\-----

Dinner that night was interesting to say the least. Laura had already feed baby Nathaniel who snoozed soundly within a playpen in the expansive living room. Multiple extra chairs were pulled up to the table and the extra leaves add to the ends of it. Clint sat at one end and Laura the other. Cooper and Lila the two little rents sat on either side of Laura; they of course continued to make faces at each other throughout the night. Sam sat to the side of Cooper and was followed by Steve filling up that side of the table. Your body filled the chair next to Lila— the child wiggled in her seat the entire night avoiding her side salad. Barnes was tucked into the chair next to you, his posture stiff but he was calm nonetheless.

The fork twirled around in your plate mindlessly, you could tell you were hungry but had yet to grow an actual appetite. A sudden wailing pierced the calm chatter at the table. Immediately snapping your head to the playpen in the living you the sight of a sobbing Nathaniel was visible. Scooting your chair back in unison with Clint made you finally snap out of the need to help the young boy. A clearing throat at the other end of the table stopped Clint however, and when you looked down you saw Laura smile and nod at you. Continuing the scooch of your chair you pushed it back in before smoothly walking over to the wailing child. Leaning over the edge of the pin a smile grew on your lips taking in the sight of the toddler. Scooping him up in your arms and placing his chest against yours, his head resting on your shoulder, you cradled his small body. Cooing softly at the child you bounce your arms slowly and begin to hum trying to calm him.

"There's leftover formula in the fridge from earlier just heat it up." Laura places her fork on the table beside her and smiles. "Well I guess dinner is done for tonight." She turns and addresses her eldest son. "Cooper it's your turn to help clean up the dishes."

A whine and a ‘ _yes_!' come from the mouths of both children as Lila gets up and runs off, Cooper pouting and sinking into his chair.

\-----

Re-heating the formula was easy, trying to feed it to a squirming, non-compliant baby was not. Holding him tightly still you managed to finally get the bottle to rest between his lips and hold it as he happily chugged. Occasionally his chubby arms would try to reach for the bottle but give up halfway. Humming once again while he worked on finishing the bottle helped ease the wiggles in the small child, the formulated milk and smooth noise soothing him. Gently taking the empty bottle from him you placed it on the counter and opened a drawer grabbing a dishtowel. Dropping towel on your shoulder you once again cradled him and began to slowly pat his back to burp him.

Watching silently from beyond a corner Clint turned back to his wife. "How did you know they were this good with children?"

"I know a natural when I see one." Smiling Laura kisses her husband's cheek and walks up the stairs.

  
\-----

"How'd you know to take care of him?" The voice enters the doorway causing you to look up from your book. He stands there, Barnes. His metal shoulder is leaned against the doorway, fingers flexing to keep them occupied.

"I always wanted one." Your thoughts are taking your to distant places. "In the 40's I mean. In memories I remember helping young moms look after their infants."

"Can't wait to see if I remember that memory." He walks into the pale green room, "It'd be interesting to see you dotting over children."

You can tell actions of both of yours from the 40's are slowly seeping back. "Not as much as you."

He looks over into the crib. "Now the only one of us that has a chance is Stevie."

Looking back at him and then to baby Nathaniel you can't help but hope he's wrong. "Yeah, guess you're right."

\-----

The clock ticks loudly into your eardrums as you stare into the mug of tea. Nervousness and anxiety swelling upon your stomach. "Nat. She's… She's not on our side this time is she."

"No." The male takes a sip of his tea, you can see his disgusted face in your mind as he immediately sets it down a clatter resonating.

"She really thinks this is the right thing to do?" Your voice is barely creeping into that of a whisper, glad that he has in his hearing aides and that he can read lips.

"It's not that black and white, not for any of us." He pushes his cup to you. "No matter what anyone tells you, this war is not black and white. It's all shades of grey, morality and fucked up choices."

"Clint, why do you want to come back after you left? You have a family for god sake." Your fingers dig at the table, scratching the wax polish. "You want to live through the possibility of throwing it all away?"

His hand cups your own like he always does. "I came back because I know it's what I want to do. I want to fight for what I want for one last time. Plus, I can finally get Nat back for Budapest." A grin places itself on his lips.

A snort leaves your nose and you squeeze his hand. "Make sure to get her back for the hair dye for me, alright?"

He smiles and grabs your other hand. "Why don't you get her yourself? Hm? Fight for what you want, for the last time right? Then you can go run away with your super husbands and live ‘til you're all old and gray."

Smiling gently tears slowly form on your lower lashes. "Yeah." Glancing at the clock your smile blossoms more. "I want to be gray and old." You glance back at him. "With my super husbands."

The cool night breeze eases in from the open porch door. The screen filtering in small black specks before floating around the edges of the table. Squeezing Clint's hands once more you stand and leave the chamomile and peppermint tea setting on the table in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave your thoughts and comments in the comments.
> 
> Hahah, I'm so funny!


	8. Jack & Maisie Rutherford.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha crashes the party, memories from 1968-'69

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter, I really went in a totally different direction that I mean't too. These memories weren't even supposed to be in this chapter but hey, they work out.
> 
> Also in the memories from '68-'69 Bucky and Reader will refer to each other as their aliases, so Jack and Maisie. It might show up in later flashback from later years depending on how long I keep them from knowing names. I just wanted to clarify this since Reader normally calls him Barnes, but these memories are before they learned each others names.
> 
> Also I try to keep my reader-inserts as gender neutral as possible but in this chapter with the flashback I stated that reader is his "wife" and stuff so. I try guys but sometimes it's unavoidable!

A week later every freeloader in the Barton house just feels like another member in the household. Sam had shown the kids his ‘wings' during the week which caused Lila to repeatedly beg her parents for her own. Steve had played football in the yard with Cooper— he'd managed to ‘win' a game also. Barnes, surprisingly helped you deal with baby Nathaniel. You had taken charge of him when Laura and Clint looked like they needed a break. It seemed like every time you went to sit on the couch you were right back up on your feet, Barnes trailing right behind you.

A week later also happened to be when a certain redhead came knocking on the screen door. Her long red hair rested in waves over her shoulders, a brown leather jacket hugged her arms. Barnes and Laura were in the nursery upstairs with Nathaniel, giving you a break. Sam and Steve had returned from outside a few minutes before hand, two children following them around like ducks. Clint and you in the kitchen, him starting to fix the children their lunch, you fixing yourself hot tea. A smile weaves onto her face as Cooper and Lila race to hug her. They greet her and babble quickly as they turn and race up the stairs.

"So, this is where you've been hiding." She walks further into the house and shuts the screen door. "Started to think you were gone for good until you messed up and came someplace I knew you would." She looks over towards your form, if you hadn't known her for six years you would've said she looked shocked to see you, but since you had known her for six years you knew that wasn't true. Even if you did try to clear all your tracks and move to Germany, you knew she would somehow always have tabs on you. "And you, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." She smiles and walks into the kitchen. "I thought you would try and stay gone forever."

An uncomfortable smile crawls across your face. Echoes of mistakes and awful memories resurfacing again. "Yeah, I did too." Your shoulders tense in a defense mechanism, your stomach unsettling by her presence. Why you feel so unsettled by Natasha and why you didn't by Clint is a mystery that clings to you.

\-----

_"Rendezvous back where I left you in an hour." The brash voice clicks off the walkie talkie and your fingers quickly attach it back to the clip on your belt. Quickly surveying your surroundings you note all the exits, corridors, and anything else helpful. Humming in recognition of all your surroundings you grab the machine gun lying on the ground next to you. Swinging it over your shoulder with a strap you attached before the mission you grab your bag and swing it over your other shoulder. Grasping the rungs of the ladder above you, you quickly make your ascent._

_A quick crackling break the thick silence surrounding you. "Abort. Repeat. Abort. I've been spotted, meet back at the rendezvous now." Loud gunshots break off the reception on the other end._

_Sighing you grab the railing and hop over it, foregoing the ladder. Landing in a barrel roll you stand and walk to the door you both came in from, grabbing the machine gun from your shoulder. Readying yourself for attack you stand and cover all the entrances with your eyes. Quick, thumping footsteps echo down the corridor as a disgruntled male emerges. His own machine gun held in his left hand, mask pressed up against his face, goggles discarded however. He begins to walk and throws his gun to the ground before digging into a pocket and bringingforth a grenade._

_Reaching you he pulls the safety pin. "We're gone." His left arm's plates click and whir as he tosses the grenade down a corridor._

_\-----_

_"This is the longest mission we've had either of you on, and for you." His attention turns towards you. "Your first. If either of you screw up it's immediately back to the cryochamber." The male stands and leave the room, slamming the door behind him._

_Both bodies sit in silence, the room darkens as the lights flicker. The bed both of you are seated on squeaks and groans as the male beside you stands. He's changed into street clothes compared to his earlier tactical gear. You however are still in said tactical gear, one identical to your male counterpart— well except you had both sleeves. Grasping the mask on your face you pull it off and push up the goggles onto your head all at the same time. Dropping the mask on the bed you stare at his form as he trails around the room._

_"What happened earlier?" Your voice echoes off the bare walls._

_He groans and runs his hands through his tousled, medium length hair. "I set off an alarm that they missed on their initial observation so we couldn't be debriefed on it."_

_You nod and ask another question. "Why blow the building up though?"_

_"To make sure the target was eliminated." He looks towards you. "Plus, everyone there was annoying me." He walks to the bag sitting on the other bed and grabs it, then tosses it to you. "Now get changed, we have a new house in the suburbs to move into."_

_You stand up grasping onto the bag. "Suburbs? What do you mean? I thought the mission was done."_

_"No, it's part two to the mission." He walks forward. "We have to go undercover in the suburbs."_

_You look down at the bag and walk towards him, meeting him in the middle of the room. "Undercover as what?"_

_"Newlyweds." He looks towards the bathroom. "Now get cleaned up, the moving truck will be at the house soon and we need to get there before it. I'll work on getting the weapons together."_

_You nod and sling the bag over your shoulder and saunter into the bathroom. You quickly rifle through the bag and grab the clothes inside, start a shower and get ready for the newest part of the mission. The entire time your mind clogged up on how the hell you and him would be able to act as newlyweds._

_\-----_

_The ride to the house was interesting to say the least. In the guise of a cab a handler drove you to the house. Along the way they debrief you on the mission, who you were acting as and all the such. He was Jack Rutherford, rich, well-to-do son of Benjamin Rutherford. You, his newlywed wife, Maisie Wilkins, a girl he had met as a child. A normal young couple; him a worker at the biggest corporation in town, you a housewife, expecting to get pregnant any day and focus of the house and children when there were any— no need to work since your husband was filthy rich. You stared silently at the man next to you, finally able to put a name with a face, even if it was fake. He had always seemed hesitant to tell you his name; he knew it, or parts of it at least— just like you. His long growing hair was cut back and combed over along with a clean shave, filling the part of a rich son._

_"Lastly, you have to show affection towards each other. If you two don't someone will think something is wrong. Newlyweds are always clinging to each other." He pulls up to the edge of the curb. "Lastly, your family is rich but you don't like to flaunt your money, that's why your house is in the suburbs." The handler opens his door and opens Jack's then goes to fetch your luggage from the trunk._

_Jack slides out of the car and holds out his hand for you. "Maisie."_

_You slip your hand into his and stand beside him, your short curls bouncing as you turn. "Thank you, Jack." You smile and release the hold on his hand._

_Your handler slams the trunk shut and fumbles up the walkway to the house, the bags weighing him down. His hands fumble for the keys and unlock the door, wandering somewhere inside of the house. Jack's right arm slips around your waist and he squeezes it lightly with his hand. His left hand is covered with a black glove— **‘you served in the war, lost an arm and got an ugly prosthetic'.** You twist your mouth upward once again then lean into his touch; something inside of you rumbling unsteadily as if you had lived this experience before. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave your thoughts in the comments!


	9. Wanda Maximoff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader sorta technically breaks into the new avengers building. 
> 
> Also attends the meeting and looses her lunch. Oh yeah, and makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this chapter took me so long. I've been writing this chapter and the next chapter of rememorari together. I'm probably going to have to re-write this whole thing when civil war comes out and I'm going to actually cry. I also just realized that the reader in both stories vomited in this update. 
> 
> Also, civil war comes out on May 6th here and I can't wait ugh.

  
“Ross is calling a meeting at the new HQ in a week.” Natasha’s fingers curl around the mug of tea. “He expects all Avengers to report,” her gaze flickers over to you. “Including you.”

You lean back in your chair and rub your hands against your face, a cool whisper runs along your skin. Whispers giggle and snark into your ears, the shadows becoming heavily agitated. “I’m not. . .” You pause and pinch your brow. “I’m not an Avenger anymore, I thought we cleared that up a long time ago.”

Her eyes darken slightly, covering over with guilt. “You are a hero though. You have powers, that’s what he’s calling the meeting for.”

Your hand flinches slightly as a shadow runs across it. “I’m not going,” you grip the mug tightly again. “This thing isn’t power.”

Steve clears his throat, “You’ve saved us plenty of times before while using it.”

“Someone has to stay behind anyway.” You clench your teeth, teeth grinding against each other. “Someone has to babysit.”

“Buck is fine, if we need to we can take him with us.” Steve leans forward, “Taking him right to the enemy isn’t the best plan but if we hide him well enough-.”

The mug flies off the table and crashes into the wall, shadows chattering and swooping around the pieces. Staring down at the table you slowly lift your gaze to Natasha. “I’m not going, that's final.” You stand and slam your hands on the table. “Me going there is like leading me into a death trap. I’m not fucking stupid, I know they found information on my past. I know they want to put me on trial for the shit I did. Don’t even begin to try and cover up what I know, my past is just as fucked as Barnes. I’m not going back to someplace just to undo what I’ve fought to gain back in the past years.”

Natasha sits silenced by the speech before raising her voice. “You’re not like him.” She looks up towards you.

“Bullshit,” you glower at her, “My hands are stained with as much blood as his.”

She grasps the mug in front of her. “Why did Clint and I go to rescue you? Why not him?”

“You didn’t know he existed, no one did.” Your body trembles slightly. You see Clint tense in the corner of your eye, his line of vision narrowing on Natasha.

“Wrong, we knew he existed. So why save just you?” She tilts her head.

“Please, indulge me.” Your shoulders tense and square up.

“Because,” she stands, “Someone was willing to save you. The people who you think want to slaughter you are the ones who advocated to save you. They saw something left in you, something worth saving.”

You shake your head, “They don’t want me, they want this thing.”

She walks to the door and opens it. “That may be the truth, but as long as this ‘thing’ is with you, they’re not going to kill you.”

\-----

A week later you’re sandwiched between Sam and Steve on the way to the quinjet. Clint leads the way to the aircraft, his piloting skills coming in use once more. Laura stands on the porch, Nathaniel in her arms and the older children standing by her sides. Barnes stands off somewhat on the porch watching. The trio surrounding you had debated long and hard what to do, coming to the resolution of leaving him here and coming back as soon as possible. He had gotten along friendly enough with Laura and the children to not raise any worry. Laura knew that if anything were to happen that she was to take the children and get out, along with calling for Clint. On the other hand, such a small task was growing to become Barnes’s first test.

The trio marched onto the jet, you trailing behind slightly before turning and waving goodbye to the ragtag group on the porch. Natasha’s speech had managed to get you to come, along with long coercive talks from Clint and Steve. Clint immediately headed for the pilot console and settled in. Steve and Sam settled in the seat and dropped their bags next to them. Slouching in a seat you held your bag tightly against your torso. The uniform in the bag having been neglected for two years. Besides the minor repairs you had made to the suit, it hadn’t seen the light of day since the fall of Triskelion. Everyone had brought their uniforms in case worse came to shove. You had managed to snag yours before you left Germany, a feeling warning you otherwise.

“How long do you think until we get there?” You lean forward in the seat and shout at Clint.

His hands flip around on the console, “A few hours.”

You sink down into the chair and sigh, “Great.”

\-----

As soon as the quinjet landed at the new base all of your were shuffled off. Everyone carried their bags with them as everyone entered the building. The base hummed with activity and various S.H.I.E.L.D agents running about. Everyone dashed through security, a guard handing out passes monotonously up until you. A hand shoved in your path causes you to look up and stare at the man blocking you. Someone clears their voice in the back to speak up but silences themselves just as quickly.

“Identification please.” The guard stares you down as you shuffle uneasily.

“Uhm,” you look around before making eye contact again. “Can’t you just like, run my retinal scan or something? I don’t really have an id…”

He shakes his head before holding out his hand. “You may not pass without proper identification.”

Someone clears their throat again, “They’re with us,” Steve glances at the guard before nodding.

The guard frowns, “I’m sorry Captain Rogers but I am not permitted to clear someone without proper identification.”

“Go, I’ll just stick back here.” You nod off to them. “Tell Ross that if he would actually let me in, I would come.”

Steve sighs before shaking his head, “You’re apart of this meeting too.”

The guard's interest seems to peak, most likely wondering how you fit into everything. “I can call Ross for passage.”

Sam sounds up from behind Steve, “Then go ahead.”

The guard nods and picks up a receiver on his desk and dials a number becoming distracted. Grinning you hop over the small barricade and rush over to the group. “Let's roll before he triggers an alarm.” You can swear the rest of your group rolls their eyes so far back they loose them.

\-----

Someone collides straight into your back sending your bag skidding across the floor. “Shit,” your mumble is barely hearable as the person glances at you.

“No way,” The familiar tone reaches your ears as you turn to face them, temporarily forgetting the bag. “They really found you?” Tony Stark in all of his egotistical glory stands in front of you.

You straighten up slightly before nodding. “I more or less came back, willingly.” You glance down the hallway at the group you arrived with. “Actually more like forced but. . .”

“It’s nice to see you again,” he smiles, “You really missed a lot.” His next words are incoherent before he pats your shoulder. “Well, welcome back.”

You nod before turning and scooping up your bag. “Thanks, you too, Tony.”

\-----

You truly ever wondered if you could have a single normal day without shit hitting the fan. Less than five minutes into Ross’ monologue and there were small arguments breaking out around the table. Hands flew around as teammates fluidly spoke. Your shoulders sagged and sunk further into the swivel chair. You kept your eyes trained onto the small shadows dance around the table. The coiling blackness seeming to be the only thing to keep your attention. Somewhere you hear Ross yell out something before turning and leaving the room to the now shouting Avengers. Humming, you tap your fingers on the table before slowly dragging them around and watching the shadows trail after the movement.

“Stop that,” you look up at Stark. “You know it’s creepy when you do that.”

You shrug and zone out again. “Whatever, Tony.”

“Leave them out of this, Stark.” Steve speaks up and leans onto the table.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Rogers.” Tony snarks back quickly.

“Both of you,” Natasha’s turn to speak. “Stop it,”

Both males silence themselves before leaning back in their seat. You zone out once more as arguing swells even more between the team. Accords or no accords, freedom or government control. Your head begins to pound as the shadows begin to creep in along the table, working up your arms. Grasping at your hair you stand suddenly and rush to the door, bile rising in your throat. Voices shout at you in concern from behind before you exit the room, feet carrying you to the nearest bathroom.

Your hand brushes against the door and slams it open. Stumbling into a steal your body slumps over the toilet bowl. Shuddering and crying your stomach empties itself. Sobbing into the bowl your hand shakily reaches up to grasp at the handle and flushes the toilet. Crawling from the stall you huddle yourself against the wall.

Heels click into the room, “Are you okay?” A sokovian accent tinged with an American one seeps into the room.

Your head rolls back and stares up at Wanda. “Fine,” your body shudders again, “I just need some time.”

“They told me,” she nods towards you before crouching down. “About your power,”

A bitter laugh bubble from your throat. “It’s not a power,” your hands shudder before brushing against your eyes. “This thing is a curse.”

She sighs before sitting beside you, “That is what I thought,” she pauses and holds up her hands. “I still do sometimes.”


End file.
